Chapter 14

Sylos and I made camp that night in the same place, planning to head out before dawn. We had a three-day ride ahead of us as the crow flies, and this would be our only chance for rest until we arrived.

Alone in the shelter of my tent, I tossed in the makeshift bed of leaves and animal pelts. I was exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. Falling asleep lead to dreaming, and dreaming lead to her. Closing my eyes was dangerous. I knew this, and yet eventually I succumbed to sleep's persuasive pull. Exhaling a long cold breath, I let my eyes slip closed.

****

All of me relaxed as I saw myself with her. Just the two of us, together in a room. Those eyes, dark and sultry, seeped into mine. If her body matched what her eyes could do, I was lost. I was already lost in imaginings that should not be. I felt her entire body sigh on top of mine, and even though I couldn’t see her face or even read her thoughts, I knew what she was feeling. Because I felt it as well.

Her breath alternated between warm and cool as it brushed my skin. Sinfully sweet like pastry, or the flowers that enchant with one whiff. She pulled me under her spell, and I was unable and unwilling to escape.

My fingers laced through the fullness of her hair. I couldn’t recall the exact moment it happened, when I wrapped my arms around her, wanting to tell her everything would be all right, but unable to do so, because I could not tell her a lie. Instead of pulling free as I'd expected, her cheek fell against my chest. It was comfortable, being there with her that way. Odd that we who were so mismatched should fit so comfortably in each other's embrace.

"Does it ever stop? Wanting you the way I do?" I traced the curve of her brow, the softness of her cheek down to the bow of her mouth.

"I hope not," she whispered against my finger. She started to hum a hypnotic tune. An ancient Faerie love song.

I was so lost in her melody that I didn't realize the song had ended and she had asked a question.

"You didn't answer me." Her wide, brown eyes stared deep in to mine. "Do you want to kiss me?" she asked.

I took a breath.

"Zanthiel. Do you?" she asked again. "I just need to know."

I faced her, wondering which answer to give, when there were so many ways of saying yes.

Her expression became uncertain. "It's okay if you don't. I just wanted you to know—that you can. If you want to."

Her cheeks dotted with patches of red, the way they always did when she was embarrassed, and she sunk her teeth into her full lower lip.

How unaware was this girl to even need to ask such a question? Did I want to kiss her? Was there ever a moment when I did not? I wanted to kiss her and never stop. Not for breath, or food, or drink. I wanted to kiss her like there was nothing else either of us needed to do. Did I want to kiss her? A frown worked across my forehead as I wrestled with the insanity of finding such enormous difficulty in answering an obtusely simple question.

With a low growl in my throat, I cupped my hands around the base of her head. I buried them beneath the length of her hair, skin against skin. Her neck was smooth, warm, and slightly damp from the melting snow. She shivered under my touch, but leaned into it. I pressed my lips gently to hers. Soft. Slow. Not wanting to overwhelm her with emotion.

It took a moment before she kissed me back. With her mouth on mine, and her hands gripping my shoulders, I shuddered, holding her tightly to me. We staggered backwards, into the far recesses of the room, until her back pressed up against the wall, still kissing. Her hands went limp, slipping down my arms, too weak to hold on any longer. I lifted her up and laid her on the bed, stretching out next to her. Then I pulled away to lean my cheek against her hair. Trying to sort out what was happening between us.

We lay there in the shadows of twilight, her body wrapped up in my arms, for a time. At first, I could feel her trembling. It was not until I eased back that I saw the tears streaking down her face.

I didn't move. I could only hold her, let her weep. And wish I could do more to stop it. But I knew its source. She felt guilty, over so many events that were far from within her control. And while she would deny it, I knew a part of her felt guilty about him.

Adrius had died. His death had been unavoidable. For all the anguish it caused her, it had brought me only emptiness.

Perhaps she thought I was better than this. As she sobbed into my shoulder, I wondered, did she think me more selfless than I was? More altruistic? More thoughtful? When the last few shudders ceased, she sniffled, reining in her sadness. It made my heart hurt to see her this way.

"I'm sorry," she said, offering a small smile. "It wasn't the kiss. Honestly."

"I'm glad. Of all the reactions I've had kissing a girl, tears were never one of them." I leaned back to survey her face, wiping the last of her tears with my thumb.

"It's not even you. Or us. Or—" she glanced around the room, "—this."

My voice hardened automatically. "What is it then?" I wanted to fix it, destroy whatever was causing her such sadness, decimate it piece by piece so it could never hurt her again. But most of all I wanted her to fix it herself. She’d proven time and again she did not need a rescuer. Or someone to save her from herself. She needed to be herself. Fully.

"I just get overwhelmed with all of it, you know? It's so enormous and I wonder… how can I be responsible for so many lives?" Her damp lashes lifted as she looked into my eyes. "Including yours."

"No one is responsible for me. Not even you," I assured her.

"I know. It's just…don't you worry? What if we get it wrong? Make a mistake."

My shoulders lifted. "So we make a mistake. We will have forever to get things right."

Something in my words terrified her. I could see it in her eyes, the way they widened and went wild like an animal cornered in the woods. Her dark gaze scanned the room, then darted to the open window.

Snow swirled and danced through the opening, scattering across the marbled floor. The wind dowsed the flickering candles, putting them both out at once. In the pale moonlight, she seemed even more vulnerable and somehow impossibly more beautiful.

"Zanthiel," she whispered my name, barely audible. "Let’s leave this place. Now, while we still can." She clasped my arm. "Come away with me. Please?"

I could nearly taste the desperation in her voice. The plea for something other than this—I understood it, because I shared it. But I'd tried…and failed. More than anything I wished I could give her what she asked. Be the being she needed me to be, sweep her up and take us both away from the dangers that lay before us. We both knew that would not solve anything. There were no realms far enough from the deathly reach of the Faery monarchs. The only way out of this was through it.

"We could take a couple of guards with us. I'm sure you could bribe someone's loyalty with favors owed." Her smile faltered on her lips, not quite reaching her eyes.

I recalled the guards who'd aided us when my mother held our lives in her hands—Lorelei's life in her hands. Never had I been as terrified as I had when her life was in jeopardy. I might not be able to take her away, but I would do all I could to keep her safe.

I kissed her. And kissed her and kissed her. Kissed her with all the intensity and emotion that the thought of losing her brought up in me. Kissed her with the power of ten thousand suns. Kissed as if I would never have the chance to kiss her ever again.

Flakes of snow drifted around us as she reached her arms around my neck.

"Maybe your plan is the better plan," she murmured, tangling her fingers in my hair. "We should stay and see this through to the bittersweet end."

"Well, that is a relief," I mocked.

She ignored my tone and continued, "There's a reason we've all come into each other's lives— you, me, Venus, and Adrius. I have a theory by the way, about all of that."

I swallowed, but managed, "This ought to be good. Let's hear it."

She shot me a hard look, but went on. "You, Venus, and Adrius— you all have these lives that are intertwined with one another. And the same thing with me, because there's one common thread tying us together.

I ran my tongue over my lips. "Go on."

"Love," she said. "Even if none of us comes out of this alive, there was a reason for it." She pushed up on her elbow and leaned forward. "I also have a theory on the whole love thing."

My brows arched, but I remained quiet.

"I don't really think it’s about the other person at all. It's about how they make you feel. How you are when you're with them. Or when you're not. It's who they make you want to be, and which version of your best self they bring out."

I didn't know how to respond. What words did she need me to say to bring her some ease? Maybe words weren't what was needed. I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't want to discuss how I felt, or how she felt, or why we were doing what we were doing. I wanted to taste her. One more time. Now. Not later, not tomorrow, or next week, or on our wedding day. Now.

"I know, I know. It’s too much," she said, misreading my silence. "It's okay. I've spent way too much time think things thr—"

I leaned the rest of the way forward and kissed her, cutting off the word still forming on her lips.

Her skin flushed, then shivered with chills as her lips parted.

I pulled back. Eyes still closed, I sucked in my lower lip, tasting the intoxicating blend of summer's heat and winter's chill and Lorelei—before opening them again.

"Wow," she whispered.

I frowned. "What does that mean, wow?"

"It was a good kiss."

And this was a good dream, I mused.

She touched her fingertips to her lips. When she pulled them back they were dripping with red. A gurgling sound sliced through the night. A deep slash ran from one side of her throat to the other. Blood streamed down her chest and her chin tipped back—her eyes still wide with fright as her head fell from her shoulders and rolled onto the ground.